


New Dawn

by 19lams5



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Hogwarts Founders Era, Post-Hogwarts, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-15
Updated: 2019-04-15
Packaged: 2020-01-14 12:19:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 15,869
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18476104
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/19lams5/pseuds/19lams5
Summary: Harry Potter fufilled the prophecy at age twenty five, ending an empire of fear, tyranny and darkness. But he was not the golden boy of the light, Harry had the most cunning of men as his mentor. Convinced that he has no life in the present, he decides to travel to the past for a fresh start, bringing along several of his most coveted possessions. It should have been simple, become friends with his mentor's living counterpart and stop him from a dark path. But what if his former mentor refuses? What if Harry has other pursuits occupying his mind? What if he left one war just to be brought into the fold of another? Harry/Rowena





	1. The old life

Harry Potter’s life had been a living hell. He knew from early on that Ron was only interested in his fame, that Hermione was only interested in studying him as a survivor of the killing curse, that Albus Dumbledore was a manipulative man trying constantly testing him with his little schemes and plots and that Severus Snape decided that little Harry was the bane of his existence. 

What all these schemers did not know was that the mild mannered and boy was hiding a calculating and patient schemer. No, he had avoided Slytherin not because of the obvious setup Dumbledore used, with the young Weasley, just happening to be his first anchor for information in the wizarding world, sprouting anti-Slytherin ideas just as fast as the Death Eaters sprouted anti-muggle propaganda. He had avoided Slytherin because that would have marked him as an even bigger target. 

Every time Harry was beaten by Dudley when he was little, he had reminded himself that he would never resort to such feeble brutality, that he would always scheme in the shadows, acting with elegance and grace. For the moment he had broken free of the bindings that Dumbledore had put on him during the summer between his second and third year, he had saw to Vernon’s next great adventure. It was also circumstantial that Dudley and Petunia suddenly gave the boy a wide berth with his magic unbound. 

Harry Potter could have acted prior. He first discovered magic when after a particularly harsh beating he had recovered over the course of one night when any normal person would have had to go under months of intensive care to have a hope of recovery. When the Dursley didn’t bat an eye at the fact he was able to cook breakfast for them next morning, little Harry knew he had special powers and that the Dursleys were scared of him.

The next time Dudley and his gang tried to corner him in the playground, he had outrun them before willing himself to be far away in his safe spot in the park, and behold, he had discovered apparition at the age of seven. He had willed his appearance to change after Petunia shaved his head for leaving school, and beatings ensued when it grew back the next day. From that moment on, Harry took on their punishment with bated breath, always carefully developing his powers in secret. 

By the time he was introduced to the wizarding world at age eleven by Hagrid, Harry Potter was already a fierce combatant, unversed in the traditional magics but deadly with his own fighting style of self taught magics. 

In the first year, he had reluctantly took the bait of Dumbledore and Quirrell, killing the latter and acquiring the philosopher’s stone. However if one thought he would part ways with such a tool they were a fool, and the one he handed Dumbledore was nothing but a faux. When he received the invisibility cloak he quickly deduced that no ordinary invisibility cloak could have withstood the test of time in such a manner, and figured out that Dumbledore had the elder wand while he was unsure of the resurrection stone. 

In the second year, he had dutifully slain the basilisk with the help of Fawkes, after Ron deliberately caused a cave in with Lockhart to separate the two. Of course after the deed was done Harry had obliviated Ginny and Ron, Lockhart helpfully having obliviated himself, such that no one would know the location of the chamber of secrets. Having learnt about Tom Marvolo Riddle and horcruxes had been a boon for Harry, not to mention the supply of potion ingredients he had been able to dissect the basilisk corpse into. He had further investigated the chamber and found that the study of Salazar Slytherin, reading into the man’s journals and learning vastly about the history of Hogwarts as well as in magic. There being a portrait of Slytherin also helped immensely, provided some sarcastic snips and a second opinion.

In the third year, he had saved Buckbeat with Hermione. He had managed to get a time turner after all his efforts, giving Mcgonagall a fake after he convinced Hermione to show it to him right before she returned it to her. Sirius had been saved, and though Harry couldn’t possibly care for a man who put his vengeance before the life of young Harry, he had played his part as the loving godson, managing to subtly convince Black to give Harry the considerable wealth of the Blacks seeing as he did not need it.

In the fourth year, Harry was surprised by his entry into the tournament, though unsurprised when the four houses provided a united front, making him a pariah in Hogwarts, and sealing his determination to get out of this time as soon as possible. He had been minimally saddened by the death of Cedric Diggory, having given the boy the cup after suspecting a trap by Voldemort. The boy had eagerly accepted, thinking Harry was crazy for surrendering the opportunity. Voldemort had returned the boy’s mangled corpse the next day in an open coffin in Hogsmeade, though Harry scoffed when most of the wizarding world refused to believe that the dark lord had in fact returned. His entry into the tournament also made him an adult, giving him access to his family vaults. He had hastily withdrew all the artifacts within the vaults to a new, larger and more secure trunk along with the rest of his possessions. He had also withdrew several hundred thousand galleons, most of his family fortune, without the goblin’s knowledge of course. He was thankful that the goblins did not check on the contents of the family vaults. The goblins offered no interest and actually charged a fee for using the vaults, so Harry had been tempted to close the account and move it all into muggle banks, but he didn’t want to alert the others and instead left around ten thousand galleons worth of coins sitting idly in the vault.

In his fifth year, professor Umbridge had been relentless in targeting his ‘friends’, and he generally kept a low head, using the same bated breath he kept with the Dursleys. He had refused to lead Dumbledore’s Army, but kept up to date with their progress after they were led by Hermione and stepped in to teach once in a while. He had a blinding vision of Sirius Black, but did not fall for the trap, not caring for Sirius anyways. Strangely, Harry found that he was assimilating additional knowledge, and realized that Voldemort had grown careless and his mind was unstable from the soul splitting, making it vulnerable and causing it to leak all his knowledge to Harry. Harry wondered through the immense dark arts intellect that the dark lord had, and immediately picking up on occlumency and legilimency, constructing formidable mind defences and practicing on his unsuspecting classmates. 

In his sixth year, professor Dumbledore finally died at the hands of one Draco Malfoy. Having watched the ordeal, Harry then proceeded to kill Draco and his two friends before picking up the elder wand, realizing that he was now the master of two deathly hallows. Using his knowledge and magic, he searched high and low in the headmaster’s office, coming a small golden snitch trinket which contained the resurrection stone. His plan complete, he was disappointed that there was no apparent benefit of being ‘master of death’, but regardless kept the three united hallows in his trunk alongside the philosopher’s stone. Having researched into time travel spells and read many a journal purchased anonymously from Knockturn Alley, combined with the insights of Salazar Slytherin and much of his own hard work, he had managed to figure out a time travelling ritual. Of course Slytherin managed to convince him to go to the time of the founding of Hogwarts. 

But this was all while he continued the elusive hunt for the horcruxes. Just because he disliked the light didn’t mean that he would forgive Voldemort for leaving him an orphan. It was a shame having to destroy the locket and the diadem, even with Salazar’s blessing, calling the items ‘tainted and forever ruined’. When Voldemort was finally mortal, he had lured the fool to attack Hogwarts, and at the tender age of twenty five, having trained for years. While he had gone on his hunt his foolish ‘friends’ had gone on the back heel, allowing Voldemort to expand his death eater ranks into the thousands by recruiting in France, Germany, the Nordic countries, Italy, Spain, even into the middle east and Russia. He paid little attention to this, the extent of his concerns being the location of the death eater headquarters, which was not very inconspicuous, with knockturn alley being razed to make way for a palace of grand proportions. Breaking in had been the simple matter of killing a low level death eater and adorning the robes, their security was even worse than the ministry of magic they toppled.

The final duel had been easily dominated by Harry. It was not a romantic tale of the underdog fighting to the end and suddenly getting a lucky shot after all the resilience and pain endured. It was a simply a slaughter, of Harry, having gained all of Riddle’s knowledge and plans, building on top and advancing even further, progressing to new heights while the dark lord remained complacent, having thought the chosen one had merely gone into hiding and scurried away. Harry had trained for years under Salazar’s guidance, and Voldemort’s age had shown, with him unable to continue casting the unforgivables after his magic was almost completely drained in mere minutes. Defeating Voldemort, magic had gifted him the magic from all of the marked death eaters, easily bolstering his magical core to unimaginable proportions. The size of his core compared to that of Albus Dumbledore would be like comparing a maggot to the size of the moon.

The prophecy fulfilled and standing triumphant in the ruins of the magical communities of Europe, American expeditionary mages kept order in the streets, the ministries of the various countries save for the resilient Germans having long fallen to Voldemort’s power, be it through direct invasion or through the work of spies. He suspected that in the power vacuum another dark lord would rise, or perhaps they would fight themselves into oblivion. The unmarked, Voldemort’s group of unmarked followers, would all be scrambling for power mere moments after their lord’s defeat. 

Among the ruins of Hogwarts, Harry cleared a path towards the second floor girls bathroom, still standing as a testament to the endurance of the castle. He restocked on food and went to the chamber one last time on the eve of his twentieth sixth birthday.

“Are you sure you want to do this, my heir? I cannot guarantee the sanity of myself. I made this portrait during the founding of Hogwarts, and I suspect I might have gone insane if my followers are making abominations such as horcruxes. Are you certain that I invented them?”

“You perfected them, no doubt. If it makes you feel any better the Egyptians did it nearly a millennium before you, though your journals leave little doubt that you did in fact create the first modern horcrux.” The portrait signed lamentably.

“It seems that even a portrait can learn so much, for I have learnt just as much watching you grow. It breaks my heart that Hogwarts would become such a corrupted place, where we’ve moulded society into bigotry and division. It truly amazes me to learn that muggles have surpassed us in so many ways, I find myself in awe of them. Perhaps if you meet myself you could try and steer me in the right path. Do me one favor, and find my son. The lost journal you showed me makes me shudder. I am sorry I cannot tell you when I made the horcrux, but I pray you not to let me and my son get away with such horrors of nature.”

“I will do my best, but you know that I for one do not manipulate my friends. Your path is your own, and I can only offer to guide you, just as you only ever guided me, never commanding me or forcing me to take a certain path, portrait or not.” 

The portrait smiled sadly as Ameon pulled out his prepared trunk, shrinking it until it was the size of a biscuit. He put it in his mouth, trying to ignore it as he laid back in a well prepared heptagonal ritual circle, laying down as he began a long incantation. Soon his world faded into black, and Harry Potter of his timeline ceased to be.


	2. Welcome to the new age

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry has succeeded. He is now a thousand years back, meeting with the four founders. Armed with his possessions, he shall take on each challenge as he did the dark lord Tom Riddle: with cunning, hard work and ruthlessness.

Harry Potter landed with a thud into a bush and yelled out several curses. The first thing he noticed was that he was completely naked. Thankfully no one was around as he picked himself up, hastily pulling a shrunken trunk out of his mouth and allowing the transfiguration to wear off, reverting back into its normal size. He opened his trunk, pulling out his wand and then a set of robes, adorning them before sealing his trunk again. Checking around him and satisfied that there was no one in the vicinity, he cast, “Tempus,” nearly cheering out loud when in flaming letters it red 08:00 1st August 990 A.D. Now wearing hopelessly ‘modern’ clothing, he dragged his trunk behind him as he walked along the dirt path, spotting a small village in the distance with a large castle looming in the backdrop.

“Hogwarts, here I come,” Harry said cheerfully. As he got nearer to the town, he could make out the small row of shops forming the town center. As he entered the mouth of the village he could make out the apothecary, the village post office and the Three Broomsticks. An old wooden sign hung by the door, reading ‘ten knuts a night. Five sickles a month. Six knuts for a meal.’ Harry let out a low whistle, realizing that his million galleons would take him far and wide in this realm. He imagined the utter chaos he could do destabilizing the economy. Merlin, Gringotts didn’t even exist yet, though Harry read that there were certainly goblins around this time running banks. 

Walking in, a burly man behind the bar table greeted him jovially. “Welcome stranger, I be Edgar the barkeeper. Care for a meal?” 

“Sure, give me one and a room for the night,” Harry replied, tossing the man a sickle. The barkeep caught it eagerly, eyeing it to confirm its legitimacy before pocketing it and busying himself preparing a meal. He wondered whether Edgar was an ancestor to Tom, the barkeeper of the Three Broomsticks during his time. 

He was plump and short, even for the time, with a messy mop of black hair and black eyes. Standing around 5 foot two, wearing an old and patchy brown apron, he was not unlike Tom the barkeeper in Harry’s time. He seemed cheerful enough making his way around the bar handing out meals.

“Here ya go,” he said happily, setting a bowl of meat and soup in front of him as well as thirteen knuts change. Harry eyed the mystery meat suspiciously before tucking in. It tasted fine, and he didn’t ask questions he probably didn’t want answered. He eyed the other villagers, who were chatting and drinking away happily. He wondered how it seemed that the village was more populated now than during his own time, before realizing the toll that decades if not centuries of stagnation in Britain had caused for wizarding kind. 

Finished with his food, he went over to the bar table and handed the bowl back to Edgar. “Thanks my good man, most people are too lazy to return the bowls. Your room be the third one from the front to the left, number five. Here’s the key.” Harry caught a small bronze key with a feather keychain. 

“Tell me Edgar, where should I go to find a bank?”

“Oh, just go down the street. There’s a marble building there, ye can’t miss it. Goblins, nasty creatures, but they get the job done.”

“Thank you,” Harry left the bustling tavern and wandered down the street as instructed, indeed coming across a large marble building, though not in the same place as Gringotts, he noted. The building was even larger and grander, looking like a cross between a smaller buckingham palace and the US capital. He couldn’t help but wonder what happened to the building, and why it did not exist in modern times. Four goblin guards stood intimidatingly at the entrance, two carrying halberds while two had swords and shields. He gave them a curt bow as he passed them, not missing the surprise the four goblins showed as he continued towards the teller’s counter.

“May your gold flow, my friend. I am looking for a vault, and I was told this is the place to get one,” Harry said, respecting the goblin customs he had picked up on during his youth. The goblin seemed surprised, not sneering him as he did several other customers.

“May your enemies’ heads roll before you, I am ironpalm” he replied in kind before asking, “Low security, medium security or high security?” 

“High security,” Harry replied confidently. Apparently his robes and confidence were not enough to assure the goblin, for he was told quite snidely that the minimum deposit for a high security vault was fifteen sickles. Harry sighed as he put a galleon on the counter, getting the goblin’s attention as he hastily led him through a large vault door and into a minecart. 

The journey down was as exhilarating for Harry as it was the first time, though he managed to keep an aristocratic mask at all times. Going deep, Harry observed the vaults still under construction, and realized that these were the same as the ones that formed the old and most guarded underbelly of Gringotts. 

“Security will be improved once we get a Ukrainian Ironbelly down here. For now though we have goblin guards round the clock,” Ironpalm explained. Harry nodded along as they exited the minecart and into a large vault. “The vault can magically expand. The fee is one sickle a year. Yours is number seven.”

Harry walked in, impressed by the security of the goblins. Stepping inside, he pulled out his pouch and opened it, shaking it as hundreds of galleons fell out. Even if he tried not to, Harry could tell that the goblin was staring, muttering under his breath, “By the graces of Ragnuk.”

It was amusing to see the goblin try to make the ride in the minecart more comfortable after seeing the show of wealth, if such a feat in the contraption were possible. Shooting back to the surface having deposited only a fraction of his wealth, but enough to make a statement, he left the goblins and found his way to the scroll store, picking out hundreds on the topics of history, armithacy, transfiguration and various other topics. The shopkeeper’s eyes were glowing as he handed over the several galleons to cover the cost of his shopping spree. 

Taking back a shrunken stack of scrolls that would have made Hermione’s eyes water, he carefully stored all of his newly acquired artifacts in his trunk and refilled his money pouch before leaving again, wandering around the town of Hogsmeade. 

Pieces of parchment were nailed onto everywhere, a primitive form of advertising. One particularly stood out to him. 

Ten acres of island, includes the lake and a bit of the surrounding lands consisting around fifty hundred acres. Twenty two galleons, no lower. For more details contact the four founders.

Attached to the notice was a small map with the approximate location of it, being situated near the boundary of Hogwarts a bit beyond the forbidden forest. The lake was nearly perfectly round, and the plot of land in the center of the lake was elliptical as well, with the rest of the property comprising of a large area of forest surrounding the edge of a lake. Harry could already envision building a fortress of solitude for himself. The island was a perfect defensive position, and within his mind the idea of filling it to the brim with magical defences was extremely appealing. 

“I see you are very interested in the poster, want to have a survey of the land? All profits would go towards funding Hogwarts,” Harry turned around to be greeted by a large man, with a broad chest and a red cloak, a large longsword sheathed by its hilt on his belt. 

“Godric Gryffindor,” Harry said with an inclination of his head, “tis an honour to meet you. Do tell me more about this school.” 

“Ah, Hogwarts be the work of me, Helga, Rowena, and Salazar. Us four friends pooled our fortunes together to acquire the castle after the muggles abandoned it half finished. We finished the rest of the construction and are now dedicating ourselves to teaching the youth.”

“A noble sentiment,” Harry mused, walking alongside Godric through the town center. They passed by a broomstick store, and Harry wondered genuinely whether the broomsticks flew, or if they were just for sweeping. 

They passed by a large house like structure with a creaky wooden sign swinging titled ‘Dwarven Construction, since 964’. Harry couldn’t help but ask Godric if he knew anything, and the man divulged, “We hired them to finish off the castle. A bunch of the older dwarves who aren’t so good at fighting, trying to make some gold for the dwarven kingdom. They’re hard workers, and have some fascinating machines that build abnormally quickly. They finished with our castle in a month, did you know they can make flushing toilets. They somehow connected the plumbing to the great lake, genius I tell you.”

Godric seemed lost in his own thoughts as they walked, so Harry simply enjoyed listening in to the various conversations. As they left the busy town and wandered through some nature, Godric seemed to return to focus, so Harry asked, “What do you mean by fighting? Is there some sort of war they’re trying to fund?”

“Aye, you’ve a sharp mind,” Godric responded. “There be some necromancers raising the dead, causing a bunch of chaos I tell you. The king sent several thousand of his soldiers to fight alongside the elves and the dwarves, but from what I heard they were quite heavily battered. Expected as much, fighting inferni. They can raise an army of hundreds from the grave, though bah, I say.”

Harry stowed that information away in his mind, content to listening Godric regale a tale of him duelling several opponents. It seemed that Godric was adept with the blade, and less so with the wand. Harry listened intently as the man described a particularly brutal with Slytherin in detail.

“He fights like a serpent, that coot. Always on the defensive and waiting for an opportunity to strike. See I charged him with the blade as he’s got some nasty curses up his sleeve, He keeps his distance and unleashes a cutting curse at me, but I deflect it with my blade, beautiful piece I tell you, made by the best goblins after I saved a smith’s life. Anyways so I carve the curse and continue charging at the man, and he finally pulls out his blade, shorter and lighter than mine but much more nimble, the petty thing. He holds the blade with both his hand, barely stopping me from cleaving him before dropping it and firing a spell at me point blank range, cutting me damn good.”

He looked pensive, and Harry couldn’t help but admire the man’s spirit. From his research, ignoring the romanticized and blemished tales of myth and focusing on reliable sources, the man had been an exceptional dueller, though magically he was only above average for his time. Harry smiled and nodded along until they arrived at the edge of the lake, walking to a small dock where a lone rowboat was tied, reminding Harry of the rowboats he went on during his first year to Hogwarts.

“Hop on in, I’ll row us across in no time,” Godric said cheerfully, and Harry sat himself on the boat dutifully, ignoring the slight queasiness he felt at the lurching motion of the ship. Godric was clearly strong, if his strokes were anything to go by, and in mere minutes, they had traversed the lake and made it to the island.

“As ye can see, tis flat grassland, perfect if you want to make a nice home fer yerself and for a misses maybe? Anyways, feel free to have a look around, I’ll just be waiting here.” Harry nodded, kneeling to the ground and planting a hand on the ground. He allowed his magic to flare, enhancing his senses as he felt for the magic. He could feel three ley lines running, its epicenter concentrated right at the center of the island. Harry’s eyes widened, he knew that Hogwart’s wards had been strong drawing strength from two ley lines, and he could only imagine the effect of having three power his wards. With a smile, he returned to Godric, who seemed to be in awe of his display of magic. 

“I am impressed, he is the gold,” Harry said, pouring out twenty two galleons and handing them to Godric. “And just curious, but would there be an open position for teaching at Hogwarts?”

Godric pocketed the coins, rubbing his beard that looked like a red lion’s mane as he offered, “What can ye teach?”

“Defensive magic. Certain...circumstance forced me to become adept in the field. I can hold my own in other subjects, but I would be well suited to teaching spellwork and defence against magical creatures as well.”

“What creatures have ye faced?” Godric asked, slightly doubtful of his abilities. Harry didn’t blame him, while he had kept in shape while learning thousand upon thousands of ways to inflict pain and kill, both magical and muggle, he was not the most impressive sight outwardly. 

“I’ve faced a Basilisk, a hippogriff, a dragon, grindylows, dementors, trolls, giants and many more. As for spellwork I defeated a very powerful dark wizard from where I came from, fulfilling a prophecy and bringing down an empire.”

“Hmm, that does sound impressive. Show me just how powerful you are, and I’ll consider taking you to the other founders,” Godric challenged. Harry merely smiled as he cast an overpowered maxima ventus, planting them as the epicenter of a tornado of water as it swirled around the island. If Godric was surprised before he was stunned now, watching dumbly as Harry’s eyes sparkled green in concentration. After holding it for a minute he reigned in his power, and the tornado died down into nothing.

“Aye, I’ll take you tonight to the other founders. Meet me at the gate of the castle at sunset, and join us for dinner. Hop onto the boat, unless you plan on staying here,” Godric said. Harry merely smiled as he visualized the town center and disapparating, the last thing him seeing being Gryffindor’s jaw drop in shock.


	3. Shopping

Harry walked past the broomstick store again, and couldn’t help but wonder just how much better his firebolt mk3 was compared to these brooms. It had been a dent in the Black vaults, but well worth it to launch surprise attacks at unsuspecting Death Eaters, whizzing around them in an aerial attack. But his destination was the dwarves, and he walked into their queer shop, smiling slightly at the cheerful chime of the bell. 

“Welcome human, have you got a job for us? We’ll build anything you can think of in no time, provided you have the gold. We charge quite the galleon, but you can have anything in your imagination, flushing toilets, moving stairs, maybe some defences as well?” the lead dwarf asked. If he expected Harry to be in awe of the idea of such contraptions he was sorely disappointed, as Harry didn’t bat an eyebrow, handing over a map of the plot of land he had just purchased from the founders. 

“I want to have a tower fortress built. The best defences you can possibly fit, both magical and muggle. I’ll need a wardstone too. Make sure there is a greenhouse, a potion lab, a library and the usual amenities.”

“Bold proposal, do you have the gold to back it up? Based on the map you give us, the tower will be three hundred and sixty feet. We’ll take a hundred and fifty galleons, but we’ll be done by a month.”

“If I make it two hundred can you find some more dwarves and get it by the week?” Harry asked. With the elixir of life he would live forever, or until he got careless, but childish as it was he wanted his fortress as soon as possible.

The dwarf’s eyes gleamed as he rubbed his chin thoughtfully, “Ar, that’ll be a challenge. Maybe for two twenty-”

“Done,” Harry said excitedly. The dwarf looked positively ecstatic as he hopped up and shook his hand. He watched the dwarf’s eye glow as he counted out two hundred and twenty golden galleons, setting them in several neat piles on the counter. 

The dwarf pulled out a contract, scribbling quickly before handing it to Harry for inspection. The dwarf covered the general agreement of the tower, to be completed in a week. He signed off with a blood quill before shaking the hand of the dwarf again, storing the agreement in his pocket as he left them to begin planning the construction of his new home.

He cast a tempus to see it was around two in the afternoon, and decided to head to the Three Broomsticks for a late lunch. The inn was a bit less busy than usual, so he got himself a booth in the corner and placed an order for lunch. 

“Mind if I sit here?” a jovial voice asked. Harry looked up to see a tall, old man with a cheery smile looking at him, wearing some formal robes. Harry’s passive legilimency revealed the man was old, sixty years of age, quite wealthy but humble and frugal. He was in charge of the town and was curious.

“By all means,” Harry invited, gesturing for the seat. He nodded his head in thanks as he climbed into the booth and settled down.

“Where are me manners, I’m John Craighton, town council elderman. I can’t help but notice you’re new around here. Just passing by, staying with family?”

“I just bought a nice patch of land to settle on, thinking about working at Hogwarts as well. This is one of the few mostly magical villages, and here I can feel right at home.”

John extended his hand and Harry pulled it in for a firm handshake. “Then on behalf of Hogsmeade welcome to our humble abode.”

A young girl, around five foot four, set a plate with an omelette on it in front of John. Harry raised a curious eyebrow at the girl, who seemed to fluster for a moment before she quickly left to serve the other tables.

“I can’t help but notice your meal was brought before you ordered. You frequent here often?” Harry questioned. 

“Everyday, if I can make it. Never have the time te cook, and haven’t found a misses yet. You come alone, or is there a misses anywhere?” he asked with a wink.

“I came alone, family died in a war back home. Maybe one day there’ll be a misses, but certainly not yet. Can you tell me more about the village?”

“Indeed, Hogsmeade is more a city than a village. We have a population of four thousand magicals and around six thousand three hundred muggles. Up north several miles there’s a village with a force of several thousand dwarves, elves and soldiers, but you don’t need to worry about that. Most of the muggles here don’t mind magic, the worst of them left years ago.”

“And what about the founders? What’s your opinion of them?” Harry inquired, genuinely interested.

“Nice people, they bought up much of the land and spent their fortunes finishing the castle. We’ll be the beacon for all things magical once they start teaching. Poor Godric lost his wife a few years back, poor man’s only thirty. Helga’s a nice woman, loves her plants. Slytherin’s the one to watch out for, he’s a nasty fellow. Has a son that’s just as wicked with a wand too. Both always going on about muggles and blood purity, humbag I tell you.”

Harry wasn’t least surprised by the reputation Salazar had built up. He had enjoyed the long debates about blood purity and inbreeding with the portrait of Salazar, with the portrait conceding only that the stagnation of the magical population meant that within circumstance muggleborns were needed, even if he didn’t approve of the fact that they often disregarded magical culture. Harry had often retorted with the argument that the magicals failed to educate the muggleborns, and he conceded that the Hogwarts of Harry’s time had failed in its job. It would be interesting to see how Salazar would react. Salazar had forced him to swear an oath to kill him and his son should he ever create a horcrux. 

Harry doubted that even the death of the Slytherins would rid the world of such abominations, though its use certainly would be much less prevalent. Lord Voldemort would still be born, for he was not a true descendant of Slytherin. Parestongue was not Salazar’s creation, contrary to popular belief, rather he was one of the most famous host to the ability.

“And what of Rowena ravenclaw?” Harry asked intrigued. 

“She’s the quietest of the four, and the youngest too. I reckon she’s twenty three this year. Not much to say about her, if I’m being honest.”

Internally, Harry scoffed. Salazar might have been his mentor, and in duelling he would admire Slytherin all his life, but in academia Ravenclaw would always be his idol. If legends were anywhere close to reality he would not mind befriending Ravenclaw, or perhaps something more. 

Outside, Harry merely smiled politely. “Thank you for your insights. If you’ll excuse me, I must prepare for my dinner with the founders. It has been a pleasure meeting you, edelman Craighton.”

“Please, just call me John, I’m no noble lord, I don’t like flaunting my title,” he said with a wave. 

“Then call me Harry, lord Potter is simply too aristocratic,” Harry said with a smile before leaving. He noticed the slight paling of the elderman hidden underneath a casual smile, and he smirked to himself. He might prove a useful ally in the future, afterall.

Wandering through the markets, Harry pondered what gifts he would give to the founders, if any. He had no idea whether the custom existed yet, and decided to play it safe, heading to the weaponsmith and purchasing a dagger with a small emerald encrusted on its hilt. He searched for a weapon suitable for Godric, but nothing caught his eyes so he settled for some leather gloves and a wand holster. With Helga’s love of plants, a stop at the apothery to buy some essence of mandrake made for his third gift.

It was the final gift that had Harry’s mind running most furiously. He knew he wanted to give her either a book or a scroll. Bokks were extremely rare, so he decided to go down that route, spending an hour browsing through the small collection in the scrollstore. Finally, he came across an ancient Egyptian tome that caught his eye, and he inquired it with the storekeeper.

“Ar, a rare beauty. A traveller stopped by several months ago passing by, sold it to me to pay off some debts. Quite expensive though, it’ll cost ye two galleons. Good eye though, many intellectuals have eyed it, though none bought it yet.”

“I’ll take it,” Harry said without hesitation, handing the two galleons to an astounded shop owner before leaving quickly, lest the shopkeeper have second thoughts. This gift easily cost treble of all the other gifts combined, but Harry didn’t mind, it was a drop in the ocean with his wealth.

He could see the sun was almost ready to set, and quickly headed back to the inn and his room, casting a cleaning spell on himself and straightening out his robes before visualizing the gate of Hogwarts, disapparating with a pop.


	4. First Impressions

“You can apparate?” Harry smiled at the beautiful young woman in front of him, wearing an elegant blue and bronze robe with a raven crest. Bowing as was custom, he held his hand out expectantly, smiling further when she offered it so he could plant a kiss on it. He didn’t miss the creeping blush as his lips met her hand, and he gave a mischievous wink looking up before recovering.

“Indeed, Lady Ravenclaw. It is an honour to meet you at last. Lord Gryffindor seems only to rave on about his duels with Lord Slytherin and his failed advances on Lady Hufflepuff, I myself admit curiosity towards you, fair lady.”

She met his eyes, being slightly shorter in stature, though close enough so their heads were almost level. “You flatter me, Lord Potter. Godric has been singing praises of your prowess. I myself also admit to being curious to you.”

Harry didn’t know what came over him, but at that moment, he had decided that his lackluster love life would end today, and that that he was going to start using the ‘potter charm’. Flashing a brilliant smile, he teased, “Perhaps we could satiate each other’s curiosity. But please, do not call me lord Potter, it makes me sound so old and aristocratic. I am just Harry.”

“Then I am Rowena to you, Harry Potter,” she said with a smile, looking slightly unsure of herself. Without waiting further, he took her offered hand and led her towards the great hall, silently enjoying her face run through several emotions as she tried to put together a retort.

“Godric, good to see you again. Lord Slytherin, Lady Hufflepuff, an honour to meet you both,” Harry said cheerfully as he and Rowena walked up to the head table. Godric stood up to greet him, and Helga was only a step behind him. He shook both of their hands, ignoring Rowena’s questioning look and taking a place between Godric and Rowena.

“I believe it’s customary for a guest to bring gifts, so allow me to present you with mine. Lord Gryffindor, a wand holster and gloves for your duels. Lady Hufflepuff, some essence of mandrake for your wonderful greenhouses. Lord Slytherin, a dagger for you, may you never be forced to use it.”

He handed them all their gifts and their began admiring them. Harry couldn’t help but admire the fact that Ravenclaw did not allow her surprise or disappointment at a lack of gift to show. While they were distracted, he leaned over to he and whispered, “I’ll give you yours later, if you’d be willing to have an academic discussion.”

She nodded in agreement, and surprisingly it was Salazar that spoke up first. “Godric tells me that you’re interested in a job teaching magical defence. Care to explain why you should be chosen?”

“Of course. I have both theoretical and practical knowledge, and I can teach children quite easily. I’ve taught children from ages twelve through to eighteen, and a few adults as well.”

“Perhaps you would care to demonstrate your practical knowledge?” Salazar asked. Helga gave a disapproving look, Godric looked offended on his behalf and Rowena had a calculating look, but Harry just smiled.

“I would expect nothing less. Perhaps a friendly duel? It is not often that one meets a duelling legend, afterall.”

“Diffindo!” Salazar cast suddenly, to the outrage of everyone else. Harry merely batted away the spell lazily, sending it into the wall. Harry waved his wand quickly, conjuring ropes and binding Salazar with a binding spell.

“Salazar, how could you attack a guest at the dinner table?” Godric reprimanded.

“I’m not the one tied down like a prisoner, besides, he was not harmed,” Salazar replied coolly. Harry couldn’t help but wonder what he did that triggered Salazar. After all, the man made the portrait that mentored him for a decade around this time.

Harry released him from the binds, flashing Rowena a wink. She suddenly found her plate very interesting as Salazar sneered, “Good luck trying to flirt with her. She’s married to her scrolls and books. She probably wouldn’t know a man from a woman if she hadn’t read about it.”

“Salazar!” both Helga and Godric exclaimed at the same time. Rowena stood up without a word and stormed off, with Harry following her soon after. He followed her all the way up Ravenclaw tower, hearing a door slam with a bang. 

Cautiously, he approached the door, hearing ginger sobbing. Harry felt his heart clench for some reason, perhaps sympathizing with the bullying he faced both with the Dursleys and at school. He knocked gently, hearing a particularly loud sniff before soft footsteps were followed be an open door.

“Forgive me Lord Potter, you must think me as so weak,” she said with a sarcastic laugh. Harry felt an urge to wipe the tears off her beautiful cheek, but settled for wrapping her in a tight hug. He felt her tense up for a moment before relaxing in his embrace.

“I would never think that of you, Lady Ravenclaw. Pay Salazar no heed, he is merely jealous of your wisdom,” Harry comforted. It wasn’t the best line, but given he had never even dated in his short life as the chosen one eliciting a laugh from Rowena was an achievement in its own.

“Ugh, look at me, a grown woman crying on the shoulder of a stranger while my friends ignore me. It speaks either volumes about you or them, which I have yet to decide,” she mused sardonically. Harry led he to her bedside where they both sat down, his arm wrapped around her while she leaned in close to his side.

“It is natural to cry, though I hope we won’t be strangers soon. Perhaps it is time I present my gift to you,” he said, pulling out the Egyptian tomes. The way her hazelnut eyes widened made every knut worth it in Harry’s eyes, and he couldn’t help a tingling warm feeling when he saw her shed some of her sadness.

“I must protest, this gift is much too expensive for a first. I suspect you knew I was eyeing this tome, though I do not know why I do not mind.”

“What is a couple galleons compared to knowledge. I believe you yourself are famous for saying ‘wit beyond measure is man’s greatest treasure,’” Harry replied with a smile. It puzzled him that he felt a flurry of excitement and tenderness with someone he had only just met, and he wondered if this was how true friendships were.

“I...why are you doing this? No man has ever paid any heed to an intellectual woman. Tell me more about yourself and the land you come from.”

Harry did his best to contain a chuckle at her blunt inquisitiveness, regaling, “I have a respect for those who try their hardest in their field: just as I respect Godric and Salazar for their duelling prowess, or Helga for her kindness and herbology, I respect you as an intellectual. Where I came from, my path was a lonely one, for people either wanted to use me or destroy me. My life was bound by a prophecy since before I was born, so I trained for much of my childhood before fulfilling it.”

“And what was this prophecy?” she blurted out. Seeing Harry’s mood darken she quickly backtracked, “Forgive me, it is not my place to ask.”

“Nae, but I’ve been looking for a trusted soul to share my burden with, and my heart tells me I can trust you. For a decade before I was born, there was a powerful dark lord who led hundred of followers. He was gaining more followers and power everyday. There was a prophecy made before I was born, I know not the exact wording, but in essence it claimed that the dark lord and a child were bound by destiny such that only one could defeat the other. So the dark lord searched long and hard, finding this prophesied child. He killed both the boy’s parents before firing the killing curse at the young infant, but something remarkable happened. The sacrifice of the mother gave the boy a fighting chance, and the curse rebounded to the dark lord, destroying his body.”

Harry paused, considering his words before continuing, “But the dark lord was not destroyed, he tethered on the verge of death for a decade, but managed to return, and began quietly building his forces again. While most of society rejoiced, a powerful and influential man sent the boy away to magic hating muggles, allowing him to suffer for a decade. Now most of society refused to believe his return, allowing him to easily grow stronger. Those who did looked to this boy to be their savior again, but the powerful wizard had a smarter idea. If he sacrificed the boy to the dark lord, then the dark lord would be vulnerable again, no longer bound by the prophecy. However, this man was injured by a curse trying to recover an artifact, and was killed by the dark lord’s followers. Leaving the young boy with no guidance, a society that thought his delusional for believing in the return of the dark lord, and without a plan, this young boy decided to bide his time, going into hiding and training, striking at the dark lord’s forces whenever he could. Then after many years, with the dark lord on the verge of victory, the boy, having grown up into a man, finally went and destroyed the dark lord. The dark lord had marked his followers and bound them, so with his downfall his loyalest and most powerful fell as well. But the society was a prejudiced one. Many powerful purebloods still wrangled control of the government, and continued to discriminate against muggle borns and half bloods. The man knew that society would not heal, and decided he wanted no part in it, packing the possessions he had and leaving without looking back.”

“And you were this boy,” Rowena said in realization. Harry gave her a sad smile as he nodded to her.

“Do tell me more about yourself, I’ve been rambling long enough to have not heard your sweet voice.” She leaned in slightly closer to him, resting her head against his shoulder and beginning to play with her long, black hair as she began.

“My parents died when I was young, and I was taken in by a healer to become her daughter and apprentice. In my spare time, I found that I loved reading, and she encouraged me to study, helping me learn magic as well. It was just like that for a long time until I met the other three founders. They told me about how they wanted to start a school, and I was all for it, helping them achieve their dream, and after a few years of hard work here I am, talking to you and about to start teaching a new generation of students.”

“You give yourself far too little credit, but alas it is not my place to pry. Perhaps in time you will trust me enough to regale the full tale, but until then I shall sit in my place and wait.”

His disarming smile stopped her from attempting to deny the fact. He stood up, picking up her hand and planting a gentle kiss in it, perhaps lingering a bit longer than appropriate, and giving another mischievous wink. “I should hope Helga stopped Godric and Salazar from going at each other’s throats. Regardless, I shall take my leave. Goodnight, lady Ravenclaw.”

“Rowena, call me Rowena. You have earned that right tonight.”

“In that case, sleep well, Rowena. I shall see you soon.” Harry left her room, closing the door carefully behind him before concentrating on the Three Broomsticks and disapparating.

His thoughts were dominated by one lady as he closed his eyes lying on the bed of his room. She could be his equal, his anchor to life, and that was a thought that he was in no way prepared to have. It should have been simple, befriend Salazar and prevent him from going down a dark path before living as a rich noble. Yet fate had once again thrown him a curveball, dangling the impossibly attractive Rowena in front of him and just taunting him to ignore her.


	5. Contemplations

Rowena Ravenclaw found herself lost once again. She had loathed the beginning of the day, kickstarted by an argument between Salazar and Godric on whether to accept muggleborns. Seeing as they had little way of finding muggleborns in the first place it was beyond Rowena why they bothered arguing, but such was the nature of their tenuous friendship. Helga had busied herself playing the mediator before growing restless and going to tend to her greenhouses. Rowena had been in no mood to watch them, so locked herself in her tower reading scrolls on spell creation and dreaming about owning an ancient Egyptian tome that popped into the local scrollstore several months prior. But with the already strained budget of Hogwarts having eaten into her personal savings, she had no way to afford it, so contented herself in dreaming. The scrollstore owner had barred her from entering the scrollstore unless she began buying things, telling her it wasn’t a woman’s place to study, so she had no way of accessing the damned book.

It was in the late afternoon that Godric returned from what she initially presumed was a round of drinking at the local tavern after the argument with Salazar, but instead he had announced that they had finally sold the land near Hogwarts for a full twenty two galleons, giving her a budget of five full galleons to spend on building a library collection. She had immediately rushed off to the scrollstore, intent on purchasing the tome, only to be told that a mere hour before a new local had purchased it. She had sullenly purchased several dozen books and scrolls for the library, spending two galleons on it all after haggling for a bit. 

When she returned to Hogwarts having completed her purchases she found Godric and Salazar once again arguing, this time over inviting the mysterious buyer for dinner. She had learnt from their heated arguing that the man who bought the land was apparently very powerful, and interested in a teaching job. Salazar had been dead set against it, while Godric refused to back down having already invited the man. Rowena had contented herself with merely watching uninterested for dinner, but when the two showed no sign of stopping and it was almost dinnertime, she had taken it upon herself to greet the man at the castle gates.

Her first surprise was when the man apparated right in front of her, and silently at that. Only a few of the elders were able to apparate, and they had all refused to teach her. Rowen had tried asking Godric or Salazar to learn the art before teaching her, but Godric wasn’t interested in anything not related to transfiguration, duelling or insulting Salazar, while Salazar was interested in nothing other than potions and insulting Godric. She had long given up trying to confide in Helga, who was only interested in loving Godric at a distance and caring for her plants. 

But an intellectual woman had little where to go. Her parents had passed away when she was young, leaving her to fend for herself. Luckily, a healer had taken her in, raising her and later apprenticing her, as well as introducing her to the world of magic. Shs had studied with a passion in her free time, and excelled at the fields of armithacy and charms. She had tried her hand at duelling but was not as adept as many of the men, so gave it up in favour of throwing herself fully at her books. Few men had shown interest in her, mostly put out by her intelligence and her lackluster romane. After refusing to bed with a foreign suitor, rumors had been circulated about her chastity, and most men never bothered approaching her again. Similarly, she had long given up on finding a man who would be interested in her, instead devoting herself to her studies, with healing as her profession. 

Then she had met Godric and Salazar at age twenty. They told her that they wanted to start a school to teach magical children, and naively thinking that her talents would be finally appreciated, she had eagerly signed on as one of the four founders, joining the brave Godric Gryffindor, the cunning Salazar Slytherin and the hard working Helga Hufflepuff. Yet as she became involved in designing Hogwarts and arranging for the logistics, it became clear that Godric was only interested in duelling others, Salazar was intent on picking fights with Godric or spending obscene amounts on rare potion ingredients for merlin knows what and Helga, while nice and hard working, had little practical experience, spending most of the time tending to her plants, collecting ingredients in the Forbidden Forest or trying to break up Godric and Salazar’s childish fights. 

It was her that negotiated the deal to buy the castle and the grounds, wrangling their finances to the extreme to put together the fifty galleons, or around one thousand pounds. That amount had gotten the king to give sovereignty of the three hundred acres of land that consisted of Hogsmeade, along with its castle. Salazar had been depressed for months as she had cut nearly all of his potions budget, while Godric’s drinking money had been cut to a cup a day. Much of Helga’s plants were sold off, just to pull the deal off, but along with collecting donations from several thousand magicals and taking out some high interest loans from the goblins they had accomplished it, and magicals in Britain now had a town to themselves. 

Thousands of magicals flocked to join the village, swelling the population as much of the muggle population moved down south or to the east. Still some remained, and paid into the taxes. Most of the money went straight into repaying the goblins, who eased off their pressure by reducing the debt owed in exchange for being allowed to set up banks and switching all of the muggle currency into goblin galleons, sickles and knuts. 

Even with the war against some necromancers raging up north, one of the reason they had managed to get control of the village at a relatively low cost from the original lord, the town prospered. After much deliberation, they had decided to continue construction of the half finished castle and use it as a school. Rowena had initially argued against it, citing the extremely high cost and the lack of a need for such a large structure, but the other three had been adamant, and she did what she did best, wrangling the finances of the town until they had enough to pay a band of dwarves to finish construction of the castle. She herself had worked on the design, incorporating some basic magical defences as well as setting up the ward scheme. 

Yet even with such a large project under their belt the three founders rarely recognized her unless it was to ask for something, and Rowena Ravenclaw had continued on her existence miserably, hoping that one day fate would smile upon her.

It seemed that today was the day, as the man immediately kissed her hand and introduced himself as Harry Potter. She was initially skeptical, expecting him to be yet another of the verbose and flamboyant duelling champions that Godric had been beaten by, yet he was mild mannered and followed tradition to the tooth and nail, in spite of his claims to dislike aristocracy. She had been impressed by the fact he had brought gifts for the others, as was tradition, if slightly disappointed that she did not receive anything. But why would he care what Ravenclaw thinks, she despaired. Yet this was not to be, for he promised a gift to her later. The rest of the meal was spent with bubbling excitement until Salazar had decided to insult her in front of the guest.

She remembered the feeling of dread overwhelming her. She had thought that was the moment this mysterious arrival would realize that Rowena was just a simple intellectual and lose any interest in her. Already embarrassed to have their guest be attacked by Salazar in the middle of the meal and then for Godric and Salazar to start going at each other, she had decided to cut her losses and just leave, unable to handle meeting Harry Potter in the eye.

Yet the unthinkable happened. He had followed her to check on her, comforting her when her own friends were busy bickering downstairs. When she broke down crying she half expected him to run away terrorized, or perhaps to laugh at her, but he wordlessly closed the distance between them and wrapped her in a hug, and the feeling of warmth and comfort she was able to draw from it opened up feelings she long thought lost forever. 

He had then patiently answered her questions, regaling his tale about fighting a mysterious dark lord before leaving his homeland and coming to Hogsmeade. He had then taken the time to ask about her, and her heart fluttered as she clumsily gave a closed off summary of her life. One look at his charming smile had stopped her from even thinking of retorting when he mused that she did not add much substance to her life story. 

When he had left her side, she had been sorely tempted to reach out and pull him back to her side, feeling as though he was everything her life had lacked up to that point, at least until she realized how awkward it would be to invite a man she had known for little more than a failed dinner for. 

When he left she felt a tingling warm sensation linger in her heart. It seemed that fate had finally answered her call and gifted her a partner in things. As she lay down closing her eyes, her thoughts lingered on the green eyed wizard with a mop of messy black hair.


	6. Up the tower

Harry apparated to the small dock at the edge of the lake, seeing the looming tower fortress built atop the island. It was a light grey column reaching for the sky, with a battlement and its paraphets at the top of the structure overlooking the lake like a beacon. 

Harry concentrated on the dock on the island, and through tunnel apparition found himself there in a split second. The lead dwarf came out of the tower’s entrance, a large set of double oak doors. “Welcome, lord Potter. Here’s your new tower, done and dusted. Why don’t we go for a quick tour? You’ve seen the dock already, we’ve just changed out the planks with some fresh ones and made the deck longer.”

Harry followed the dwarf inside, where they descended down the spiral staircase and into a cellar. “Here’s a safe room, if you will. Contains a small storeroom, bed and toilet for you to use in case of an attack. The wardstone is also here for you to use.”

The dwarf merrily led Harry back up the steps and up the tower. “The first floor is the storage room, there are some shelves for you to put things on,” the dwarf said, gesturing towards through an open door. The magically expanded room was large and circular, with the staircase winding around the room as they ascended. They left the storage room and began climbing until they reached another door.

 

“This is the second floor, it contains the armoury, as well as a training room. We’ve got some weights, a running wheel and a few training dummies for you to work with. The armoury we’ve stocked with a few swords and shields, if you want more we’ll happily sell you some weapons, seeing as you’re our largest client since Hogwarts.”

“Indeed, I want a set of armour, a sword, a dagger, and a shield, if that is possible. How much would that cost?”

“Hah, I knew ye’d ask. We have a set prepared, it’ll be fifty galleons. Expensive, but that’s what the finest work of dwarven smiths cost.” Harry handed over the coins without batting an eye, and the dwarf pulled out a chest from the corner and opened it, pulling out a full set of battle armour, a longsword, a kite shield and a short sword. He put a palm over the armour and ran his magic through it, testing its strength and looking for any cracks. But dwarven armor smiths were far more skilled than their human counterparts, and Harry found no weakness in the armour. Confident in the quality, he followed the dwarf out of the second floor and continued ascending the stairs upwards. 

“Right, the third floor is the potion lab. You’ll have to stock it yourself, as we dwarves won’t pretend we’re any good at them. I’m sure it’s not too much trouble.” Harry followed the dwarf out and up again without comment, and they reached the fourth floor. “Right, this is the library, it’s huge, it’ll be big enough for all the scrolls and tomes you have. I’m sure you can charm them to magically sort themselves, otherwise we do have a mechanical system to swap the shelves around so you can reach the top shelves.”

Harry made a mental note to begin working on charming the equipment the dwarves provided. It seemed that the extent of the magic they used was in speeding up construction and magically expanding the rooms. 

“Right, fifth floor, here is the kitchen and the dining room. Anyways, you might see the barrel on the side there, we filled it with some Dwarven ale, it’s on us,” he said jovially. “We’ve also stocked it with some food, though you might want to do one of your stasis charms unless you plan on eating a feast soon.” Harry added that to his mental to do list, and continued onwards.

“Right, sixth floor, here is the master bedroom and study. There’s a fully stocked bathroom with plumbing water from the lake, and all the furnishing you need is here. Nice big balcony for you to look out of too. You can also control the defences here, just flip the switch by the bedside and the stairs turn into a slide, and water will flush it. Anyways, I won’t bother taking you to the seventh floor or the roof. Seventh floor is just a few guest bedrooms, and the roof has five ballistas, so that’s got the entire edge of the lake covered. They’re strong enough to fire a bit into the woods, and we’ve got several crates of bolts up there, so you’ll be safe and sound if anyone dares invade. If we’re done, I’ll take my leave, it’s taken a hundred of us a long time to get this tower finished.”

“Thank you, if I have any construction needs I’ll be sure to find you,” Harry dismissed. The dwarf happily left him in his new bedroom, and began descending down the staircase. Harry did a quick inspection of his new room, white had a large king sized bed beside the balcony. A large drawer, a mirror and two chairs were the only other pieces of furniture in the room. Walking through a trabeation (a fancy term he picked up for a doorway without a door), he found himself in a study, where two large bookcases flanked a large desk by a window. Returning to the bedroom, he went through the door to find an ample bathroom, with a large bathtub being fed by a tap in the wall and draining itself. A faucet and a flushing chamberpot was also present, and Harry decided that the dwarves were way beyond muggles, who he read were often still using dirt holes as toilets. 

He descended down the staircase, the first order of business being to carve some runes and activate the wards. He had spent much of the week after the dinner with the founders working out exactly how he wanted it, and was confident he could carve out all the necessary runes within the hour. It was much easier with a millenia’s worth of advancement in warding from his time, and even with magical stagnation he was confident that the towers wards would be some of the strongest in the world. Most of them would lay dormant until he activated them with the word ‘snitch’ or if he willed it through his magic. He had incorporated blood wards for the very reason they could work based on intent. 

Taking out his trusted ritual knife, he spent the next two hours carving and double checking the entire scheme before powering it with three drops of his blood. He felt the magic ripple before expanding, with the first layer expanding to the edge of his property, the second layer extending to the edge of the lake, and the third, final and strongest covering the island. Pleased with his work, he wiped the sweat from his brow and quickly healed his finger before leaving the runestone. 

Climbing back up the tower to his bedroom, he eyed the fireplace and wondered how long it would take for someone to invent the floo. If he was not mistaken Rowena had invented it, though when he was not certain. He cursed the fact that he didn’t bring his broomstick, and took two steps back before sprinting towards the balcony and leaping out, falling to the ground before he cast a levitation spell on himself, slowing his descent until his feet touched the ground. His appetite for dramatism satiated, he disapparated to the Three Broomsticks.

The room he had lived for in a week was spartan to say the least. A bed, a desk and a chamberpot in the corner of the small room was the extent of the furnishings. Compared to a cupboard it was generous, but even living in hiding he had faced better accommodations. 

He quickly cast a packing spell on the few items he had taken out, filling them inside his trunk. He gave his trusty trunk a gentle and affectionate pat before summoning the roomkey hung on the coat hanger, going downstairs and tossing it to Edgar.

“Thanks for the room, I’ve finally found a place to move into,” Harry said with a nod. Edgar, busy serving meals to the tables, gave him a smile and a wave before turning back to serving his patrons. Harry went back upstairs, recovering his trunk and apparating back to his new bedroom.

“The resurrection stone and the philosopher’s stone are definitely staying in the trunk. My robes can go into the wardrobe, and the books and scrolls into my study. The food in the trunk can stay in case of emergencies, and the gold is fine inside,” he mused to himself. His mind set, he allowed his magic to flare, and the clothes flew out, arranging themselves into the wardrobe while the scrolls and tomes streaked through the room and into the study before arranging themselves onto the shelves.

Harry wandered down to the kitchen, where he quickly began casting stasis charms on everything there. He wondered how the dwarf knew about them, supposing that they weren’t invented till much later, but reasoned that the history books had simply gotten it wrong. He slightly regretted not getting more potion ingredients into the trunk, for back in the two thousands it was convenient to go to the apothecary for most ingredients. However potions had never been his interest, and he had enough of a supply of healing and strength potions to last several wars. Finishing by casting the needed charms on three large roast chickens, he wandered down to the empty potion lab, making a list of what he needed to acquire.

“Potion stands, cauldrons, flasks, ingredients,” he listed out loud as he scanned the room, spotting several vent holes and admiring the thoughtfulness of the dwarves. He went down the stairs and into the armoury, where he saw the training dummies lying there. Casting animation spells on them and having them arm themselves with wands, swords and shields, he willed for them to guard the tower, and they began heading off to various spots in the tower, not unlike how Hogwarts’ suits of armour worked.

Making it to the ground floor, he stepped out the entrance and into the large grassfield at the basin of the tower. He found himself looking out at the water, until a small dot coming from the direction of the forbidden forest emerged in the sky, before growing larger and larger.

It was a brown owl, which flew several circles around the tower before descending down to him with a hoot, sticking out its foot with a note attached. 

Harry,

Apologies the dinner ended so poorly. Helga made me and Salazar do some stuff for the school, so I was unable to contact you prior. Anyways, we agreed, though not unanimously, that you’d be welcome to teach at Hogwarts. You’d be teaching defence against creatures and charms alongside Rowena. Speaking of which, she was quite adamant that you be given the position, what did you do to convince her? Anyways stop by sometime through the week so we can work out how to sort out a schedule to teach.

Godric 

Harry’s thoughts returned to Rowena again. He felt bad not having checked up on her for the week, but she had not contacted him and it seemed inappropriate to try and pry his way into her life. Trying to brush aside these thoughts, he decided to go wander to the wider reaches of the village, perhaps visiting some farms or village shops.


	7. Down in dirt

Harry wandered through the dirt roads deep into the countryside. It had started just as a walk to see the edge of the village, but an hour later he had begun to explore the countryside, finding that he quite enjoyed the feeling of walking. 

“Well well well, what do we have here?” Harry was startled from his musings when several hooded figures leapt out of a bush, surrounding him threateningly. “A fancy wizard wandering out of their comfortable home?”

Harry sighed. “You have one chance to get out of my sight.” The hooded figures laughed, and Harry figured that they were druids. Seeing two of them raising their hands, he quickly banished all of them wandlessly, following up with stunners. Stalking over to the unconscious leader, casting, “Legilimens!” He sieved through the druid’s memories, especially intrigued by their abilities to cast magic with their wands. Quickly copying that knowledge into his own mind, he sieved through the other druids’ minds, finding information on their camp to the west and more images of them terrorizing unsuspecting wizards and witches who wandered too far away from the edges of Hogsmeade. 

“Obliviate!” Harry cast on all of them, stripping the leader of his uniform and his strange charmed pendant before turning back and apparating straight to his tower. Storing the druid’s robes in the wardrobe carefully and putting the pendant on his study’s desk, he disapparated with another pop straight to back to where he left the druids.

With a cold and calculating look, he cast Avada Kedavra on each of them, the sickly green jets of light striking each of their chests as their bodies became limp. They had made their first and last mistake: never attack Harry Potter.

Picturing their camp in his mind, he cast an incindio on their corpses before apparating away with a pop. 

The druid camp has a smouldering fire at the center and several wooden huts surrounding it on stilts. Harry was unsure where he was exactly, but he knew he was in a marsh somewhere to the north west of Hogsmeade. He would have to learn more about the druids later, but for now, he searched their camp for anything interesting.

He entered the largest building first, only finding a few potion ingredients that he put in his pocket. There was an old, scrawny bed and an ancient wooden table with a chair tucked to one corner. It seemed that the druids lived a very spartan life, if their leader lived in such accommodations.

He exited the largest hut, heading to the one on its left. It appeared to be some sort of healer’s wing, as there was a single bed in the middle of the room surrounded by racks of herbs and ingredients. He pulled out his expanded pouch and began shovelling everything in, guessing that with the druids’ familiarity in herbology he would save several galleons at least. They had even been nice enough to label the ingredients, which would save him much time.

He left the hut feeling much happier at his trip already. Heading to the next several huts he found they were all devoid of furnishings except for a few straw beds. He scanned the rooms for anything of value, finding a few odd trinkets and possessions he assumed were stolen from their victims. He pocketed those as well, determined to study them to see if they could provide any information. 

With that, he had finished exploring the entire camp. Harry pondered whether to raze the site to the ground, but decided on keeping it as a secret hideout. It seemed he had wiped out the small group of druids that formerly called the secluded site home, so it was unlikely anyone knew of the site. While he would have to work on furnishing, he was confident it would prove useful should the tower somehow fall victim to an attack.

Going to the center of the camp, he took out his trusty ritual knife and cut his palm. Muttering several incantations, he began carving out a few runes surrounding the base of the fire. It was a very rudimentary warding scheme, but with some strong muggle repelling charms, as well as subtle compulsion charms for wizards and witches to avoid the area, the few blood wards there were should be enough to deter most opponents.

He began trudging through the marshes, now fully appreciating why the fire was built on rock and the houses on stilts. The murky green hugged his feet, and every time he lifted his feet a sopping sound made it impossible to be inconspicuous.

Satisfied with his work, Harry disapparated with a pop, making a note to have the dwarves furnish the site so it would be more livable. Proper beds, a kitchen, a well and a toilet were all in order.

He spotted a faint glow hum from underneath the water. He bent down and peered at it, wand drawn, when suddenly a small nymph shot out of the water, giggling as she flew circles around Harry. He smiled as she rested on his shoulder, hopping up and down as she pointed towards a green blob in the distance.

“Slime?” Harry queried, and the nymph nodded with a shudder. “You want me to destroy the slime?” She bobbed her head up and down vigorously. Deciding he had nothing better to do and that the last thing he wanted was a slime infestation in his future property, he pulled out his wand and cast a powerful reducto.

The jet of light shot straight towards the green blob, and upon impact vaporized it in an instant, as well as sending a spray of marsh water up into the air. 

“Are there any more?” Harry asked the nymph. She squinted her eyes and peered around before shaking her head. 

“You’re a wood nymph, aren’t you. Do you want a tree to live in?” He chuckled as the nymph furrowed her brows in contemplation before nodding. Harry called upon his requisitioned druid training, feeling the magic from the swamp. He tossed out the seed of yew tree, tossing it into the swamp before calling on the magic of the swamp to fuel its growth.

His eyes shone brightly as a faint white aura surrounded him, and the nymph watched curiously as the tree sprouted to life, growing and growing until it was a good twelve meters tall. He tossed several more seeds for various fruit trees as well as other species, planting them in a circle around the group of houses in a sort of privacy barrier. He knew that if all went to plan he would soon drain the marsh and set up a proper base here, but for now was content with the fifty or so fully grown trees that now dotted the area.

The nymph looked positively ecstatic, planting a firm and wet kiss on his cheek before flying off to a nearby birch. He watched her happily as she fluttered around the various trees, shooting small beams of magic as she weaved in between the branches. The trees almost seem to radiate in vitality when she shot her magic, and Harry supposed that this was the magic that the modern world missed out on because of their destruction of nature.

Seeing that the nymph had finally decided to settle inside a spruce tree, lazing on one of the branches as she gave a dramatic yawn, Harry disapparated back to the village, in front of Dwarven company.

“Back so soon? Is something wrong?” the lead dwarf asked the moment he stepped in the door.

“Not to worry, I just have another job for you,” Harry assured. The elf seemed relieved by this, pulling out parchment and a quill before looking at him attentively. “I recently acquired a small village property, it has six house structures, all of which need to be furnished with beds, wardrobes, desks, chairs and the like. I want a well dug, and for a proper toilet and kitchen to be built. If you could also drain the marsh up to the treeline that would be great. Oh, and also construct a small armoury and fill it up with some Dwarven weapons, I trust you to pick. Have enough for ten men. How much will that cost?”

“Hmm,” the dwarf rubbed his chin thoughtfully, “Thirty galleons and we’ll have it done in three days.”

“Three days?” Harry couldn’t help but ask, “Where do you get the furniture so fast?”

“Ah, it’s simple really. Most new residents have us build their houses since Hogwarts, and we’ve always kept a stock of furniture in advance so we can complete projects quickly. Anyways, how will we get there?”

Harry took his quill, and focusing on the swamp village he cast, “Portus.” There, you’ll be able to get there with whatever you’re holding by simply saying ‘village’. To come back just say ‘Hogsmeade’. The portkey will wear out in three days, so if you need a delay find me.”

“We won’t need a delay, you’ll have your village soon enough, right lads?” The other dwarves yelled their agreement, and Harry couldn’t help but admire their spirits, Happily forking over the thirty galleons, a more than fair price in his opinion seeing as thirty galleons would have gotten him a half decent broomstick back in his time. He trusted the dwarves enough, and even if they tried to betray them they had no way of finding the hideout again once the portkey wore out. 

“One more question, can I buy more of the dummies, they’re quite ingeniously engineered.” Harry asked. The dwarf merely chuckled as he pocketed another three galleons in exchange for fifty of the contraptions. The dwarf joked about him training up his own army, and Harry merely laughed along politely, after all, adding his own charms and transfigurations and having them guard his property was not far off from building his own army indeed. He silently thanked Voldemort for enjoying tinkering with them in his youth so much. He had spent a long time laughing at his inner circle getting beaten by training dummies in one on one practices that the dark lord supervised, and was glad he had been gifted the knowledge of how to enchant the dummies. It was an extremely complicated, time consuming and magically draining task, but with his power level, all the time in the world and a fierce determination to be protected, there was little stopping Harry.

Leaving the dwarves, he headed to the apothecary, deciding to get some more potions and ingredients before he forgot. He walked into the store, giving the young witch behind the counter a curt nod before wandering around and picking up what he needed. Three brass cauldrons and two bronze ones were shrunk down and pocketed, along with a dozen potion racks and several dozen glass flasks. A few ladles, and a helping of every ingredient they had in stock was also shrunk down. 

Once he had finally finished getting everything, he went to the counter quite severely weighed down. The young girl pulled out a large piece of parchment and began tallying up the total, which rung up to no more than four galleons seven sickles, a steal in his opinion. 

He was certain that his expanded pouch would explode in a violent fit of magic if he did not relieve it of its contents soon, so he hurriedly apparated back to the tower and cast an unpacking charm on the bag, which let out a puff as the ingredients he bought from the apothecary and requisitioned from the druid encampment began arranging themselves into the shelves. He pulled out the cauldrons and placed them by the wall next to the sinks beside the firewood stack. He doubted that he would ever brew potions, for even though he was not as bad as Snape made him out to be he was no prodigy even with the intellect of the defeated dark lord, having only ever focused on making healing potions, a few poisons and some explosive ones for area damage against death eaters. 

He cast a tempus, seeing the time was just four o’clock. His thoughts traitorously returned to Rowena and wondering what she was doing. Studying alone in her tower, no doubt. He instinctively whistled for Hedwig, until he remembered that his faithful companion had been felled by a death eater’s killing curse during his sixth year. He wasn’t certain where he would find an owl, as he hadn’t seen any pet shops in Hogsmeade, and doubted that such a thing was commonplace for the time. He would see if he could acquire an owl, but for now between going to the post office or apparating to Hogwarts to check up on his favourite founder her decided on the latter, hoping that she would appreciate the unexpected visit.


	8. Chance and fate

He sucked in a breath as he eyed her door. Having apparated straight to Ravenclaw tower, he suddenly felt a spur of hesitation as he wondered whether it was prudent to interrupt her. No doubt courtesy dictated he should have sent advance notice, yet another voice in his head just told him to knock.

“Coming!” He had knocked without thinking, and her melodic voice had wormed its way to his heart, filling it with a warm and fuzzy feeling. The door opened, and he was met with a Rowena wearing a casual blue dress with bronze trimmings. Her black hair was silky and damp, her cheeks a coloured pink and her hazelnut eyes twinkling like a pair of chocolate gems. 

“Rowena, how are you?” he asked softly. His heart fluttered seeing a blush creep up her face as she opened the door fully and waved him inside. He sat himself on a stool while she sat on her bedside, braiding her hair shyly.

“I am well, Harry. It saddens me that you seemed more concerned about my welfare than the others. Godric has gone off to participate in some far flung duelling tournament with Salazar not far behind, and Helga has gone off to collect some plant essence. It has been lonely here, but alas it is the life of a scholar I suppose,” she said with a sad smile.

“You are here in the castle alone?” Harry asked astounded, not believing that the other founders could be so irresponsible, with the first school year starting in just over a week’s time. Realizing how blunt his question was phrased he was about to backtrack, but her rueful sigh caused his heart to clench.

“Indeed,” she said sadly, “but I am not here to burden you with the troubles of a lonely woman. Congratulations, I should hope that Godric has told you that we have accepted your application as a teachers. Perhaps I should show you to your quarters, they are also in the tower.” 

“It seems that Godric only saw fit to send me an owl quite recently. I suppose that is to be expected. Perhaps you can tell me more about the castle as we embark on a tour, I find that walking is often a good drain for sorrows.”

He offered her a hand and she interlinked her own with a blush. “Wise words from a wise man. Sometimes I do wonder why I had the dwarves construct a large castle, we’re expecting but fifty students across seven years. This castle could hold thousands if not more. Makes me feel quite empty sometimes, wandering along the empty corridors.”

“It leaves much room to expand in the future. Out of curiosity, where will the students sleep?”

“There are dorms in the dungeons and near the other founders’ quarters. There are some dorms up here in Ravenclaw tower besides our own as well, but seeing as it would be a major inconvenience for students to trek up and down daily I doubt they will be occupied unless the student population expands. Why Salazar would think it attractive to live in a dungeon will always be beyond me.”

“Perhaps he feels threatened by your intellect. It is quite poetic, no. You are in a tower reaching for the skies while he is buried beneath the earth. Speaks much to the character of you, does it not?”

“Oh hush you,” Rowena chuckled, “flattery will only get you so far.”

“Yet it seems the fair lady besides me is taking it in good spirits,” Harry teased, waggling his own eyebrows. Where this playfulness came from was beyond him, but he decided that after defeating a dark lord he deserved to have some fun.

“You certainly have a way with words,” she quipped, “perhaps having another man around won’t be as dreadful as I initially believed. I would have thought that Godric would bring back another pompous duelling drunk, yet he surprises me by bringing you.”

“I shall take that as a compliment,” Harry said wryly. “Regardless, I must ask, why moving staircases? It seems that it would only serve to confuse students, no?”

“Just a bit of grandiose showmanship on my part, I suppose,” she giggled, “I was given free reign to design the castle, so I turned her into quite the sentient thing. But alas animation and transfiguration can only go so far, I daresay a man of your intellect will soon identify all the patterns and sequences.”

“Trick step,” Harry pointed out as he deftly avoided a step and pulling Rowena away from it. He didn’t miss the playful pout she gave. “Did Salazar irritate you that much such that you built in these pranks to toy with him?”

“I do not prank!” she protested, but broke into a grin, “but seeing Salazar curse every other day when he finds himself stuck in a trick step has brought me much enjoyment, especially after he sees fit to lambast me. I’m sure he takes it in good sport.”

They arrived at the other end of the tower, having passed by the student dorms. He opened the door before allowing for her to enter, and she gave him a grateful smile before stepping in. “Here are your quarters, fully furnished. You have a fully furnished toilet, as well as a fireplace.”

“Is it connected to your floo network?” Harry inquired. Rowena had a look of complete bafflement before she composed herself.

“H-how do you know about that?” she stuttered. “Who told you? Was it Godric, or Salazar? No, it was Helga wasn’t it?” 

His chuckle seemed to infuriate her more, and for fear of hurting their relationship he quickly explained, “None have betrayed your confidence. I merely observed there was a tub of powder by the fireplace and reasoned that you created a new method of transportation. Without the luxury of apparition I imagine a genius like you would think of some new method of transport.”

 

She flushed at the praise but was not swayed from her questioning. “A large leap in logic certainly, but I will overlook that. However, the name is not easily guessed, and you seem to have reasoned enough into how it works, impossible without having been informed prior. The fact that only my room, this room and the great hall are connected by the contraption means that there is no way you could have known about it...you’ve only been in my room twice, and I daresay I did not use the floo either time.”

“If it is any comfort I was not sure of the floo until you confirmed it,” he lied, deciding that he shouldn’t have teased her with that information. He doubted that she would not notice his attempt at evasion, but decided to give it a chance.

“How very...astute of you,” she commented, but let the matter drop. “Regardless, if you wish to use it merely toss a handful of powder and either call out Ravenclaw’s quarters or the great hall. This room is known as Potter’s quarters.”

“Have you figured out a way to block the floo yet?” At her questioning glance he explained, “Sometimes you might want privacy, or if in the unlikely instance an enemy managed to access one floo point, then you would want a way to block off your floo lest they use it.”

“I...never thought about it that way, merlin you make we want to disconnect my quarters from the floo network now,” she flustered. Clasping her forehead she muttered, “I feel like such an idiot now, not having thought of such simple consequences.”

“Nonsense, I only speak from experience, having seen similar inventions. Yours however is by far the best, and you certainly should not give up on it because it has the potential to be abused. WIth school starting soon though, I think it would be wise if you removed the floopoint from the great hall, as well as the floo powder, lest any students accidentally hurt themselves with it. But by all means keep the connection between our rooms, we could use it for experimentation and to see each other.”

 

“Hmm, imagine the things we could do, being able to secretly go to each other’s rooms with no one else being the wiser,” Rowena said with a twinkle in her eyes. Harry was stunned for a moment, never having heard Rowena flirt with him before. 

Deciding to see if she would go further, he played along. “Hmm, I could certainly think of many things we could try together. Perhaps some late night cuddles when everyone else is asleep?”

She laughed, her eyes full of mirth. “Quite the flirt, I see. Answer my question correctly, and I shall reward you. What say you to this game?”

“Ask away,” Harry challenged, “and let a wager be a kiss on the lips.” Perhaps he was laying it thick but at this point he was desperate to see if they had a chance of working, and she seemed more than happy to play along.

“Very well, answer me this. What is my greatest desire?”

“You wound me, asking such a challenging question. One might think that you do not want me to kiss you,” he said melodramatically while clutching his chest. She giggled and he began musing, “Perhaps knowledge, such as the fact that you shall let me win regardless of my answer,” he purred, savouring the blush that crept up her cheek as she tried and failed to look indignant, “But no, that would be too obvious for the beautiful raven. Perhaps students to spread her intellect to, followers to admire and suitors to woo? No, you are not susceptible to such fickle desires of the ego.”

Emerald eyes locked on hazelnut as he leaned forward, softly breathing on her, lips just centimeters away as he proposed, “You seek someone as an equal, someone who loves you for the intellectual you are, a partner to study and learn with, someone to share responsibilities with, someone who understands you. Not drawn only by your beauty, not intimidated by your intellect, no, what you desire most is an equal.”

“Correct,” she said no louder than a whisper before closing the gap between them and cupping one hand on his cheek while the other snaked to his back. He reciprocated, leaning in while allowing both of his hands to wrap her around protectively and draw her even closer to himself. Their lips met softly, and both moaned before pressing harder against each other.   
They kept at their gentle kisses, teasing each other as their kiss deepened. Their chests pressed tightly against each other as their tongues began prodding each other in a dance.

It was several minutes of ragged breaths and wandering hands before they pulled apart, chests still pressed against each other and hands still firmly wrapped around each other’s backs as their eyes locked, each trying to detect the faintest hint of regret or hesitation in the other’s. They simply stood there in the middle of the room for several minutes before Harry recovered the power of speech. “Wow.”

Both blushed furiously as they unwound their hands from each other, each shyly biting on their lips as they stood there awkwardly, both inwardly feeling an explosion of happiness, excitement and contentedness. “Wow indeed,” she replied softly, and both chuckled.

“Row? Will you give this a chance? Will you give us a chance?” Harry asked tentatively. His heart clenched at the fear of rejection, but he posed the question nonetheless, his need to know her answer triumphing over the fear of her answer.

“Yes, Harry.”


End file.
